Le monstre marin
by Yavne Avraham Cremisi
Second Place - Roslyn and Max Margles Contest Grades 3/4
Par un beau jour ensoleillé, l’équipage du Navigator, le bateau sur lequel nos marins vont chasser la baleine, charge le matériel à bord. Ces marins sont robustes et surs d’eux.
Le bateau est prêt. Le départ approche. Le lendemain matin, le Navigator quitte le quai. Le capitaine du navire, du nom de Jammes Crochet, motive ses marins, parce que la pêche à la baleine est très dangereuse. Après quelques heures de navigation, l’équipage de Crochet arrive sur la mer du pacifique. Un brouillard monte doucement des flots. Le capitaine ordonne de faire descendre les canots à la mer.
Chaque embarcation contient six personnes maximum. En tout, quatre canots. Chacun devait harponner la baleine. Le guetteur repère une baleine. Le capitaine remercie le guetteur poliment. Monstrueuse, elle fait plus de trente mètres de long. Une telle prise représente une véritable richesse, mais aussi un danger mortel.
Le capitaine ordonne aux six premiers marins qui sont dans le premier canot d’avancer et de suivre la baleine et de lui lancer les premiers harpons. Les marins obéissent et suivent la baleine qui est proche du navire. Le capitaine ordonne d’armer le navire et les marins. Les marins font sortir les autres canots et prennent les harpons. Alors, le capitaine ordonne de tirer. Les harpons marchent à merveille. La baleine plonge dans l’eau. Le capitaine comprend tout de suite. Il ordonne de tourner à bâbord. Les marins comprennent l’idée du capitaine et obéissent. Puis, la baleine sort de l’eau et écrase un canot. Puis, elle plonge très profond. Là, le capitaine sait que c’est la fin pour lui, mais il ne veut pas se faire tuer par la baleine et se suicide. Et les marins meurent, écrasés par la baleine.
ABOUT THE CREATOR
Second Place, Grades 3/4 - Yavne Avraham Cremisi
Selon le jury, Le monstre marin est fort bien écrit et nous offre une voix claire et rythmée. En peu de mots, l'auteur nous fait vivre et visualiser une aventure de pêche à la fois emballante et térrifiante. L'auteur réussit à nous tenir en haleine jusqu'à la triste fin.
Greetings! I am so pleased to present our milestone 50th issue of carte blanche magazine. This online literary journal of ours has been chugging along for a remarkable twenty years since 2004.
Andrew Field is a librarian and cartoonist who writes and draws mostly about mental health. He recently had a cartoon published by Bluestem Magazine, and reviews books for Graphic Medicine.
When we were young, we loved the Mulligan sisters. There were two of them and two of us. If we could have been a pop band we would have been the Supremes, except there were four of us and we were white and two of us were boys. The Mulligan Sisters wanted to marry us and were the same age. A joint wedding was secretly planned.
He gave her a library so she’d know he was the sensitive kind of Beast – not one of those monsters who’d kidnap a girl, blackmail her into staying, brutally ravish her then eat her for dinner without a second thought. This, clearly, was the romantic kind of hostage situation, the type of abduction that was a prelude to romance.
Freddie was hiding in the shower when I got home. Steam curled to the door, greeting me, damp and warm like a dog panting on my face. The train ride was long. Ice and snow smothered the tracks, strangling wheels intent on trudging through. And at every station, a strange parade of orange vests would receive us, lugging industrial sized shovels, fixed on digging us out.
I’m not saying Sarah wasn’t my friend, but she pissed me off. Always going on about things. Her parents. A man. There was always a man.
Leah sat behind the counter of the café looking at her phone while Melike rummaged through their work cubbies.
“Do you want all these flyers?” Melike called, all earnestness, as if Leah somehow didn’t know the tidying was a pretext and that Melike was hoping to find another of her sketchbooks.
This series of memories was mostly taken on an expired Fuji ETERNA 250D in Wuhan (2020), where and when the first case of Covid-19 took place.
A few Augusts ago, I became obsessed with a story I heard of a couple whose baby was attacked by a bat after the mother left her bedroom window open for the sea breeze. She kissed her baby goodnight, and returned to find them covered in bite marks.
“Perfect Combustion”
says the back of the van
waiting to turn left in front of
the deconsecrated church.
The body of a moth is velvet. The body of a moth
is light. The body of a woman fills with moths and light
They are the space between each beard stroke / these two—them in their love—how their bodies grow /
A long day ahead. A beautiful day!
Tonight they’d all see. They’d gouge their eyes out tonight.
On the asphalt of my street, the rain makes a black reflection that gathers a collection
of the evening, of the lights.
Roslyn and Max Margles Contest - First Place, Grades 5/6
When I dreamt about getting rich and famous, I never expected for it to happen like this… Truthfully, nothing about what happened went according to plan.
Roslyn and Max Margles Contest - Second Place, Grades 5/6
Once upon a time, there was a woman named Betty Rubin. Her story? You are going to have to read to find out.
Roslyn and Max Margles Contest - Honourable Mention, Grades 5/6
As a child
You were always told:
”My, you are so weird and bold!”
Roslyn and Max Margles Contest - Honourable Mention, Grades 5/6
My pink basketball pounding on the ground
When I'm running all around.
Roslyn and Max Margles Contest - First Place, Grades 3/4
There was once a kind unicorn named Bluebell. She was as soft and white as a cloud with a blue and pink mane which glowed and looked like cotton candy.
Roslyn and Max Margles Contest - Second Place, Grades 3/4
Par un beau jour ensoleillé, l’équipage du Navigator, le bateau sur lequel nos marins vont chasser la baleine, charge le matériel à bord. Ces marins sont robustes et surs d’eux.
Roslyn and Max Margles Contest - Honourable Mention, Grades 3/4
My alarm clock rang. I threw on the clothes that I had laid out the night before, then I rushed downstairs and ate breakfast, barely stopping to take a breath.
Roslyn and Max Margles Contest - Honourable Mention, Grades 3/4
Hi, my name is George. I’m the narrator of this story.
I am also the one who found Stuart’s diary so I can tell it to you. For anybody that will read this I shall warn you, you will laugh, and you will definitely, definitely, 100% pee a little in your pants.
The word Nankoweap is Paiute and the phrase carries differing meanings, such as “place where people were killed” and “place that echoes.”